Adaline

"I'm so bored" I said to myself, as I laid on the plush green grass, staring up at the clouds.

My life was the same thing everyday, as though my days are played on repeat and I got sick of everything being so easily predicted.

 I just wished for some type of excitement every now and then. Living in the middle of nowhere gets so old. It's so quiet. Some yearnfor such quietness, and find it peaceful, relaxing, yada yada yada. Not me. The quiet leaves me alone with only my thoughts, which teased me with daydreams of places I'd never see.

Everyday I wake up, go downstairs, eat breakfast, help mother prepare lunch for her and father, say goodbye as they drive away, and then I spend my time wondering around our small seven acres of land.

 I probably know every bit of our land well enough to walk around blindfolded all day. Maybe I should, at least it's one thing I haven't done yet. All I'd have to do is not run into the well that sits just a couple yards to the left of our house, and perhaps avoid tripping over some large rocks that are right behind our home.

My parents both work in the city which is quite a journey, so they leave right after dusk and return home well after dark, so I often stare off in a distance, imagining the world that exists beyond the miles of trees and mountains that stretch on from our home.

 We live in a cute, small house. It's blue with white trim, the paint is fading and chipping away, but it's still charming. We have a small kitchen, barely big enough to fit our table and appliances in; when mother and I are both trying to get ourselves breakfast in the morning we bump into each other at least half a dozen times. Our living room holds a small brown couch, a fireplace, and a small bookshelf next to the couch that my father refers to as his miniature library. My parents room is right next to the living room area, and is a tiny room, but they seem to enjoy it. My room is a little loft upstairs, when you walk up the first thing you notice is my tall oak wardrobe that my father hand made for me, across from it is my bed, and I am left with just a small pathway between the them. I love my window beside my bed, it faces out behind our house, so I can watch some of the animals come up and drink from the small creek that runs along our land. Our home is a tight living space, but it's cozy.

Still, I long to journey and see what lives past this. I've only grown to know my home.

My mother used to be a teacher in the city, so she taught me all of my education, right here in our home.

When I was younger, our family would come visit us a few times a year. We'd have bonfires together, camp outside, and enjoy some of the holidays together. But one day they stopped coming. I think they must have grew tired of making the long trip to see us. I miss them greatly, specially my cousin Inarra, her and I always had a blast together and we were best friends. 

Oh how I dream of human contact other than my parents. I love them dearly, but believe they are far too paranoid. My parents have never let me go with them to the city. My father has always claimed that I am so beautiful, that he's worried that men would be trying to lure me in for their perverted gain, and mother fears deeply that I would get lost or hurt. She looks so terrified anytime I bring up the idea to see the city. I find it strange, but I don't like seeing her upset, so I drop the subject.

 My mother is so beautiful, but I wish I could see what she looked like when she was young. I  think it's odd, but there are no photos of her, and no explanation why. All I can go by is my father's description. He tells me that I look like a clone of her when she was my age. Many times he's told me, "When I first met your mother, I can never forget such beauty. Her hair reminded of me of red autumn leaves, it was so long an soft like silk. She took my breath away when I first laid my eyes upon hers, she had the most amazing mint green eyes, unlike anything I've seen before. Her fair, porcelain skin was so smooth and flawless, it seemed as if it was glowing. When she spoke to me, her voice hypnotized me with it's sweet enchanting sound, and her name, Helena, echo'd in my mind. From the first moment I saw her I knew that no one could ever compare to her. You, my dearest Adaline, are a carbon copy of her. Someday when you get married, you will make someone the happiest man alive."  It's so sweet, but seeing how I'm practically imprisoned to my home, I really don't see how I can ever find a man to love.

About my father's description of my mother, it sounds almost like a fairy tale, but for reasons never explained to me, she has kept her hair very short since she met my father, and covers the little bit she has with a knitted hat.

Well, whether I liked it or not, this was my home, and this was my family. Instead of allowing my mind to continuously reel over the matter, I thought about how excited I was that the following day would be my nineteenth birthday.

It was dark, so I grabbed a little snack and went to bed. 

"Good night house, soon I will wake to experience the same day once again." I said to myself, as I drifted to sleep.